


Both Beautiful & Terrible

by AngelSelene



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Joe/Cherry - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, POV Bakugou Katsuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelSelene/pseuds/AngelSelene
Summary: Katsuki has no fucking idea why he had to go down to Okinawa with fucking Deku. Okay, so he was kidnapped by the League of Villains, and then there was the whole Kamino thing that happened, but none of that was Katsuki’s damn fault and it’s completely unfair that he has to go to Okinawa for a week of the summer break and spend the whole fucking time with fucking Deku.Deku's uncle isfine, but there's the Sakura-dude who comes around and all they do is fucking fight, and listening to them isexhausting. Why the fuck are they even friends anyway?The one in which Joe and Cherry's antagonistic relationship forces Katsuki to re-evaluate his relationship with Deku.
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 21
Kudos: 90





	Both Beautiful & Terrible

Katsuki has no fucking idea why _he_ had to go down to Okinawa with fucking Deku. Okay, so he was kidnapped by the League of Villains, and then there was the whole Kamino thing that happened, but none of that was Katsuki’s damn fault and it’s completely unfair that he has to go to Okinawa for a week of the summer break and spend the whole fucking time with fucking Deku.

Not that said shitty nerd seems that bothered by it. His biggest concern was All Might— _fucking nerd—_ but Aunt Inko was having none of it, and neither was Katsuki’s mom.

So. Okinawa. In the fucking _summer_ , because it wasn’t fucking hot and humid enough at home. _Oh no,_ they _had_ to go to the fucking tropics in the summer.

“My Uncle Kojiro should be picking us up,” Deku says, eyes moving around the airport, probably searching for someone.

“Hey! Izuku!” a voice calls out over the crowd.

Deku must catch sight of him, because he waves, and says, “Uncle Kojiro!”

“You must be Bakugou,” the man says. His hair is a little too long for propriety, but this is Okinawa. “I think the last time I saw you, you were—”

“Knee-high to a fucking grasshopper. I’m sure I was fucking adorable.”

“Still as mouthy as I remember,” Kojiro says, giving him a pat on the back that almost makes him stumble from its unexpected strength.

It’s irritating as fuck, and Katsuki is going to hate this whole damn thing.

He has a very vague memory of Kojiro, but he remembers kind of a lanky teenager. Whatever Katsuki was expecting Inko’s younger brother to look like after ten years, it’s not _this_. If Katsuki didn’t have All Might’s hero form to compare to, he might have thought it was an impressive physique. As it is it’s… better than average, Katsuki can reluctantly admit. Kojiro is tall, with broad shoulders, Inko and Deku’s same green hair, and Deku’s big, dumb grin. He doesn’t have Deku’s freckles, but his face is animated. He’s pretty tan though, which, well, Katsuki supposes he should expect—living in Okinawa and all.

He does not wonder if this means that Deku might end up that big one day. There’s no fucking way Deku’s ever going to look like _that_. Kojiro is, grudgingly, _maybe_ , kind of cool. Just a tiny bit.

* * *

Katsuki takes it back; _nothing_ about Kojiro is cool at all. He owns a restaurant, which, Katsuki supposes should be impressive at 25, especially because it seems to have some hoity-toity, uptight, snobby clientele. Apparently he has a tasting quirk that means he’s a really fucking good chef. It’s also so _mundane_. It’s boring as fuck, and then the dude has the fucking _nerve_ to put them to work _washing dishes._

Him. _Washing. Dishes._

And the fucker has the _gall_ to yell at him about _his_ fucking attitude?

“Don’t fucking _yell_ back here!” Kojiro snaps at him for probably the fifth time that evening. Unlike Katsuki, he’s doing that quiet yelling thing people do when they’re pissed off but don’t want to be overheard. “You’re disrupting the customers!”

Katsuki lowers his voice to mimic Kojiro’s tone even though it fucking pisses him off. “Then you shouldn’t have fucking put us to work here! Slave labor!”

“I’m fucking paying you!”

“—Wait, what?” Katsuki pulls up short.

“Uncle Kojiro told us on the way over that he was going to pay us what he usually paid dishwashers since he knows the job’s not much fun,” Deku says in the kind of tone that usually means he’s told Katsuki at least twice already. It’s not Katsuki’s fault that fucking Deku says such dumb shit all the time that he tunes him out.

“… You’re paying us?” he asks. “For real?”

“Not if you run off my customers, I won’t!”

“Resorting to indentured servitude, are we?” a sneering, snobby voice comes from the doorway to the kitchen. A tall man that’s probably about Kojiro’s age stands there in traditional kimono. He’s wearing glasses and has long, sakura-pink hair, and he’d probably be pretty if it weren’t for the condescending look on his face.

“Customers can’t be back here,” Katsuki tells him automatically, trying to keep his language on the right side of polite. He may not like Kojiro, but this asshole is rubs Katsuki the wrong fucking way.

“He’s fine,” Kojiro waves him off. “What’s the problem, Kaoru?”

“We’ve just been seated for ten minutes and haven’t had a chance to take an order yet, so I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t _died_ or something else unfortunate.”

Deku dries his hands quickly and says, “I’ll go out and take the order!”

“Thanks, Izuku,” Kojiro says, rubbing his eyes. “Izuku, this is Sakurayashiki Kaoru. Kaoru, my nephew Izuku, and his friend, Bakugo.”

“Nice to meet you,” Izuku says, bowing. “What would you like to order?”

“Kojiro knows my usual,” Sakura-dude says. “I’m over at table C3. It’s—”

“The second two-seater next to the window!” Deku says cheerfully. “Excuse me.” He pushes past them.

There’s a beat before Sakura-dude says, “Are you sure that kid’s related to you, you hairy gorilla?”

Kojiro automatically goes stiff and irritated. “He’s Inko’s kid!”

Sakura-dude sniffs. “I guess he avoided all your idiot genes, then.”

“Why you—!”

“Don’t delay on the orders when Izuku-kun gets back,” Sakura-dude says airily, brushing past Kojiro and leaving.

“That smug, creepy pervert,” Kojiro grumbles under his breath.

“Why the fuck do you put up with that?” Katsuki has to ask. “Just tell him to take his fucking business somewhere else if he’s going to treat you that way.”

Kojiro goes to the stove, waving Katsuki off. “You’ll understand when you’re older, kid. Sometimes you gotta put up with assholes.”

“It’s your fucking business though,” Katsuki argues.

Deku comes back before Kojiro can reply again, and Katsuki lets it drop. He is getting paid after all. This is still boring as all fuck, but at least he’s getting paid.

* * *

The Sakura-dude shows up the next two days at the restaurant as well. When in front of the pretty-boy’s clients, he and Kojiro manage a thin veil of civility, but it’s a pretty damn thin one. As soon as they’re behind closed doors, the two start sniping and snarking, and Katsuki’s over it in the first five seconds.

“Hey, Sakura-dude,” Katsuki interrupts on the third day after closing. “Do you even have a fucking quirk at all?” It’s rude as hell to ask at all, much less ask directly like that, but Katsuki is over this bitch coming around like he owns the place.

“Excuse me,” he says, snobby as ever. “Just because I don’t have your big, flashy quirks, doesn’t mean I’m quirkless.” He reaches over to a sakura branch in a vase that Katsuki had honestly assumed was a fake. When he touches it, it blooms. “Who do you think keeps the sakura blooming here?”

It’s beautiful, and the simple beauty of the blooms coming to life along the branch stirs something nostalgic in Katsuki.

“It’s not exactly a useful quirk,” he grumbles.

Deku claps happily. “They’re beautiful, Sakurayashiki-san!”

For the first time that Katsuki has seen, Sakura-dude smiles softly, and it takes his face from haughty to beautiful and soft, much like the flowers in his name.

“I know it’s nothing obnoxious and destructive like yours, but it’s a family gift, and I think making beautiful things has value.”

“Of course you do,” Kojiro points out. “You’re a calligrapher. You make your living off making pretty things.”

Since the dude is still a total _asshole_ , agreeing with him, even internally, pisses Katsuki off, and the two of them look like they’re going to start again, he stomps back to the back of the kitchen. He’s definitely not annoyed at how Sakura-dude smiled for Deku. That has _nothing_ to do with it.

* * *

It’s the end of the week, and Sakura-dude has shown up _every fucking day_. What the fuck is even his fucking _problem_? All he does is be bitchy and condescending, and okay, Kojiro’s not shitty Deku, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s been pretty relaxed about what they do when they’re not working—which is mostly spending a lot of time sparring at the beach, they’re just firmly not allowed to hurt each other. Surely this dude isn’t worth keeping around just to have sakura blooming in the vases all the time?

It’s also totally hypocritical that they both bitch at Katsuki for being an asshole to fucking Deku. Like they have any fucking place to talk, the way they go at it.

“They’re childhood friends,” Deku tells him at the beach when he complains.

“So? Your uncle shouldn’t fucking tolerate someone talking to him like that. Fucking stuck-up snob,” he grumbles, knocking the volleyball back at Deku, trying not to let his quirk ignite. That’s part of the point of the exercise—keeping the quirks under control.

Deku grins in a way that Katsuki doesn’t like at all. “What?” he demands.

“Someone might say the same thing to me about being friends with you,” he points out.

It catches Katsuki off guard for a moment. “You’re a shitty nerd,” Katsuki tells him. “It’s fucking different.”

This time when Deku smiles, it’s placating, and Katsuki _hates it_. He hits the ball back and accidentally explodes it.

“Kacchan…” Deku says, sighing.

“Whatever,” Katsuki says, looking away, feeling a little bad about destroying the ball. It’s not the ball’s fault he’s pissed off. “Gimme fifteen. I’ll run back to your uncle’s place and grab a spare.”

* * *

Kojiro had mentioned that he was going to lie down when Katsuki and Deku went out, so Katsuki tries to be quiet as he slips into the apartment. Last night had been a private party and had gone into the early morning. Kojiro had sent them back hours before he came home, and he had still looked pretty groggy when he and Deku had left, so Katsuki doesn’t want to bother him.

He finds the extra ball in the office that’s serving as his and Deku’s room while they’re staying with him—why a single dude needs an apartment this big is beyond Katsuki, but it does make staying with him nicer—when he hears what sounds like Sakura-dude across the hall, in Kojiro’s room.

“You know they’re going home in a few days,” Kojiro murmurs, his voice carrying to Katsuki in the quiet.

“Why the hell should I care when they’re going home?”

Curious, he creeps over to the door to Kojiro’s room. It’s cracked a few inches, so Katsuki can see, and Kojiro has Sakura-dude backed up against the wall, his hands on Sakura-dude’s hips, not enough space to slide a piece of paper between them. Like that, Kojiro seems big, overwhelming, even threatening, so much so that Katsuki almost bursts in.

“I miss you too,” Kojiro says, then kisses Sakura-dude’s neck. Katsuki almost gives himself away by dropping the ball or falling over.

He waits for Sakura-dude to punch Kojiro in the fucking nuts, but he lets out a soft sigh that Katsuki barely hears, and tilts his head back, giving Kojiro more access. He says, “Who would miss a gorilla like you?” but it lacks its usual bite and meanness.

One of KojIro’s hands slips into the kimono to hike one of Sakura-dude’s legs up over his hip, and he chuckles as it forces Sakura-dude to grip his shoulders. “You definitely didn’t miss me enough to come over here, with nothing under your kimono, already lubed up for me, did you?”

Sakura-dude blushes and looks away, fortunately _away_ from the door where Katsuki is watching from. “Jerk,” he mumbles, but his leg flexes, gripping Kojiro’s waist better. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?” Then he gasps, and Katsuki realizes that he still can’t see one of Kojiro’s hands.

“I want you to admit that you want me.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going home and getting a toy that will—!” The last word is almost a groan, and his head drops to Kojiro’s shoulder.

“A toy can’t satisfy you like I can.”

Rather than a smart reply, Sakura-dude moans into his shoulder in a way that goes _straight_ to Katsuki’s cock.

“Kojiro…”

 _Fuck_ , if anyone ever says Katsuki’s name like that, he’d better be getting ready to fuck them.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro replies, shifting. The clothing and the angle means that Katsuki can’t really see, and he has no idea if that’s good or not, but he’s glued to the spot regardless.

He realizes a moment later that he may not be able to _see_ them come together, but he can definitely _tell_ when they do. The sounds Sakura-dude makes as Kojiro takes him, the flush on his face, the way he throws his head back… _erotic_ is the only word Katsuki has for it. He’s had sex and seen plenty of porn, but nothing like this. The kimono begins to slip off Sakura-dude’s shoulder, bearing pale skin and a glint of metal in a nipple, and it is, hands down, the hottest thing that Katsuki has ever seen.

It’s hot, but also intimate. The vulnerable, needy sounds that Sakura-dude makes, the way Kojirou murmurs his name, _Kaoru_ , over and over, no honorific—really, that should have been Katsuki’s first clue—as if the name itself is something holy… it’s hot, yes, but intimate and private, and Katsuki realizes he should _not_ be watching this, should not be allowed to see them like this.

Kojiro must hit a particularly good spot because the sound Sakura-dude makes is almost enough to make Katsuki come on the spot. It is finally enough to shake him out of his shock, and make him bolt for the door, keeping his steps light by habit. He doesn’t want to get caught _now_ of all times. He manages to shut the door quietly behind him, then sits down on the bottom step, his legs practically giving out from beneath him.

He’s so turned on, he’s tempted to take care of it right there where anyone can see him, but if spying on them when they obviously thought they were alone and in private was bad, jacking off to the memory of them like that would undoubtedly be worse. His heart rate is just beginning to return to normal when a pair of shoes stops in his vision.

“Everything okay, Kacchan?” Deku asks.

Katsuki looks up at him. “I told you—”

“That you’d be back in fifteen minutes,” Deku interrupts. “But it’s been twenty-five.”

 _Fuck._ How long had he been watching them? Just the thought of it brings his arousal back, and he groans.

“Are you okay?” Deku puts his hand on Katsuki’s forehead, and Katsuki just bats it away.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s hot. Are you overheating? I can just go inside and—”

Katsuki puts his arm out to block Deku’s way. “I’m fine. Don’t go in,” he says.

Deku blinks down at him, confuse and also obviously doubtful.

“Are you—”

“I’m fucking fine, all right?” he snaps. “Don’t go in. Your uncle’s busy.”

Deku still looks skeptical. “You’re all flushed. How long have you been sitting there? I really think we should go in—”

“Dammit,” Katsuki curses, grabbing Deku’s wrist as he tries to pass by. “It’s not me, you shitty nerd. It’s your uncle and that Sakura-dude!”

“What about them?”

“They’re…” _Fucking._ The word catches in Katsuki’s throat. “… busy. Don’t interrupt them. I’m fine.” The idea of Deku going in and being completely horrified by his uncle cools most of Katsuki’s arousal, and he gets to his feet. “Let’s just head back to the beach.”

Deku is frowning at him in that way that tells Katsuki he’s analyzing his answers six ways to Sunday.

Katsuki sighs, standing and grabbing Deku’s upper arm in a hand. “C’mon,” he says, dragging Deku with, trying not to notice the fact that his hand no longer reaches around Deku’s bicep completely.

“If you’re sure—”

“I am.”

Deku gives him a final long look but slings an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. “All right,” he says. For once, he doesn’t push it off, noticing in an off-handed way that Deku doesn’t have to reach up to do it anymore. He’s too busy trying to push the images and sounds out of his mind to think much of Deku’s arm around his shoulder.

* * *

Katsuki can’t sleep for the second night. There’s been no sign from either Kojiro or Sakura-dude that they know they were seen, and they’re still acting like they absolutely hate each other.

But then, Sakura-dude comes over to either the restaurant or Kojiro’s apartment every day without fail.

Then again, even looking for it, it doesn’t _seem_ like they’re flirting or playing some game. They seem to be honestly irritated with each other. Katsuki just doesn’t fucking get it.

“Kacchan, go to sleep,” Deku mutters from the futon next to Katsuki’s. The room is small enough that there’s no space between them, and he must have woken Deku up with his tossing.

“Sorry,” he mutters, rolling over again, trying to make his brain just shut the fuck up and stop thinking about it.

Something about his tone must have set off a warning bell of some sort in Deku’s head though, because instead of settling back down, he hears Deku sit up.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s fucking stupid, okay?”

“It’s kept you up for two nights now,” Deku says. “You might as well talk about it.”

He stares into the darkness, not that there’s much to see since all of the furniture is down at Deku’s feet. “Did you know… your uncle…” The words seem to _need_ to be said, but saying them is still oddly difficult. He takes a breath and just spits it out. “Your uncle and Sakura-dude are fucking.”

There’s a beat, then Deku says, “I know.”

That makes Katsuki roll over to stare at him. “You _know_?” he demands.

Deku’s mostly an outline in the dim moonlight from the window, but he still sees him make a calming motion with his hands. “Of course I know. It’s obvious.”

At that, Katsuki sits up. “It is _not_ fucking obvious!” he snaps, though he keeps it quiet. “I thought they hated each other!”

Shrugging, Deku says, “Some people communicate with flowery words, some people do it with snarking and banter. They don’t ever say anything really mean to each other. Sakurayashiki-san wouldn’t bring his business clients to Uncle Kojiro’s restaurant if he really detested him. He wouldn’t bother keeping cherry blossoms blooming for him. Those aren’t things you do for people you don’t like.”

“But…” Katsuki wants to protest, wants to argue that all they do is bitch at each other. They don’t ever really stop or touch or anything, at least…

… Not where other people can see.

He remembers the way Kojiro rested his hands on Sakura-dude’s hips, like that’s where they belonged, the way he bent to nuzzle his neck, like he knew exactly what touch would get what reaction.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Deku asks in that way he has that sometimes sees straight to the heart of a matter. Katsuki hates it when he does that.

 _Why_ does _it bother me so much?_ He doesn’t know. It shouldn’t. If they’re going to play some fucked up game in their relationship, then what-the-fuck-ever. More fucking power to them.

Except…

He had kind of thought…

He had kind of thought they were the kind of friends that he and Deku were. The kind who just griped at each other all the fucking time. Who kind of could only half-stand each other but respected one another and could always be relied on in a pinch. But he hadn’t expected them to have that other aspect to their relationship, and he never even _considered_ Deku like that.

… Did he?

… Does he?

“Kacchan?” Deku’s voice seems soft and intimate in the darkness. For some stupid fucking reason, it reminds Katsuki of the way that Kojiro said Sakura-dude’s name. It sends a chill through Katsuki, and where he was just frustrated and confused, he’s suddenly a little turned on.

_Fuck._

“Does it… remind you of us?” Deku asks. His voice is hesitant, unsure, but even in the dark, Katsuki thinks he can see the intensity in his eyes. Deku is asking in that voice not because he doesn’t know what he wants—Deku has _always_ known what he wants—but because he doesn’t know what _Katsuki_ wants.

If someone had asked him before this trip, Katsuki would have said Deku would be the last fucking person on the planet he’d ever want. But seeing Kojiro and Sakura-dude… maybe that’s not true. Maybe it’s never been true. Deku has always been the undemanding shadow at his back until suddenly he leaped ahead and Katsuki saw him as an impediment, a wall to conquer.

But Deku has always been there, holding out his hand, wanting to pull Katsuki with him. They want to beat each other, better one another, but they don’t want the other to fail. Katsuki wants to win, but he realizes… he’s never wanted Deku to lose.

That shitty nerd has been a constant in his life. He can’t imagine his life without Deku in it. Is that enough? Does that mean they have something more? When Katsuki has spent so much time telling himself they aren’t even friends?

He doesn’t know how much Deku can see in the dark, doesn’t know what expression he must be making, but Deku moves closer. He reaches out a hand, slowly, giving Katsuki plenty of time to back away. Katsuki doesn’t, and after a moment, Deku cups his face. Katsuki can feel the scars that he’s already accumulated on that hand, unfaltering, unafraid to hurt himself if it’s for some greater cause.

Deku has never been afraid to be hurt.

“Kacchan?” His thumb brushes over Katsuki’s bottom lip, and his eyes must surely be glowing for Katsuki to see them so clearly. “Is this okay?”

Katsuki’s heart pounds in his chest, and he swallows, but the words are clustered in his throat, so he just gives the barest nod, because it is, somehow.

Deku’s thumb moves away, and Katsuki doesn’t think, just closes his eyes as Deku closes the distance to place a soft kiss on his lips. It’s not like the girls he’s kissed; Deku’s lips are a little chapped, whether from nibbling at them or from their recent time in the sun, he’s not sure. It’s still a different texture and a different weight, a surety. When he’s kissed girls, he was always the one in control, deciding how aggressive to be. Kissing Deku is nothing like that.

Deku pulls back a little, and Katsuki has to repress the urge to chase him, wanting to feel those chapped lips again. “I want to kiss you again,” Deku says, close enough that his breath tickles Katsuki’s mouth.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Katsuki asks, the words bubbling up like a challenge.

He thinks he sees Deku grin, and his answer is another kiss, Deku’s hand sliding into his hair while the other settles on Katsuki’s knee. This one is more sure, more in control. When he feels Deku’s tongue tickle at the seam of his mouth, Katsuki can’t help but let him in, and Deku plunders his mouth like it’s his right.

It kicks Katsuki’s competitiveness into gear, and he starts battling back, trying to push back into Deku’s mouth, to claim it as much as Deku is claiming him until they have to break for air. When they do, Deku’s hands drop to Katsuki’s waist, and he hauls Katsuki into his lap as if it’s effortless, and Katsuki will sooner bite his own tongue off than admit it, but that casual strength is _really fucking hot_. He groans as his hard, confined dick rubs up against what must surely be Deku’s own cock.

“Shh, Kacchan,” Deku murmurs into his ear, having shifted to his neck. He grips Katsuki’s ass and rubs them together again, and _motherfucker,_ that feels good. Katsuki doesn’t remember grabbing Deku’s shoulders, but he did at some point. “Can I take you out, Kacchan?” Deku asks, his breath hot in Katsuki’s ear.

“O-only if I get to too,” Katsuki manages, reaching between them in a mirror of Deku taking a hand off Katsuki’s ass to reach around to the front of his shorts. They both awkwardly shove their shorts down enough to get their dicks out, and Deku’s hand is large and rough on his dick, the scars providing another new feeling as he takes Deku’s own length into his hand.

“Quiet, Kacchan.” Deku chuckles against his ear, and Katsuki hadn’t even realized he was being loud, but his throat feels dry.

“Shut up, shitty nerd,” he grumbles, but with none of his usual venom. He twists his wrist and gets a soft sigh out of Deku.

Deku uses the hand still on Katsuki’s ass to pull him further forward until he’s able to wrap his hand around both of their dicks at once, and Deku captures his mouth again, kissing him deeply as he jacks them off together. In an embarrassingly short time, Katsuki feels his orgasm sneaking up. He tries to push away only to have Deku’s grip tighten and Deku’s other hand hold his head in place, swallowing Katsuki’s groans as he spills over them. At least Deku is on his heels. His grip in Katsuki’s hair tightens for a moment, but it actually makes Katsuki’s dick give another spurt.

They don’t break apart gasping, though Katsuki is lightheaded from lack of air. Instead, Deku pulls back enough for them to gulp a bit of breath, then chases after Katsuki’s mouth as if he’s some treat that Deku can’t get enough of, the kisses gentling until they’re soft, tender touches.

Finally, Deku hangs his head against Katsuki’s shoulder, and Katsuki’s hand—the one that isn’t covered in their spunk—lifts to card through the unruly mop. Deku hums the join of his neck and shoulder, and murmurs, “I like you, Kacchan.”

 _Oh,_ he thinks, thoughts still a little muddled, but at ease and relaxed in a way that he isn’t sure he’s ever been. Deku’s arm around his waist is grounding, the weight of his head against Katsuki’s shoulder comfortable and comforting.

“Shitty nerd,” he says, but both the tenderness with which he cards his fingers through Deku’s hair and the affection in his voice gives the words a meaning he didn’t realize they had before.

Deku chuckles against his collar. “Your shitty nerd.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees.

* * *

Kojiro stands at the end of the stairs to his apartment as Bakugo stomps off to the taxi that’s taking them to the airport, obviously more than ready to put this island paradise in the rearview.  
  
“Thank you,” Izuku says, giving Koijro a last big hug. “Give our thanks to Sakurayashiki-san too?”

“Of course.” He chuckles. Looking down at Izuku with an amused grin on his face, Kojiro warns, “He’s going to be a handful.”

Izuku grins back at him. “I know.” He turns to watch as Bakugo slams the trunk of the taxi. “But it’s the beautiful and terrible that are more fun, aren't they?”

“Hey! Shitty nerd! What the fuck are you waiting on? An engraved invitation!” Bakugo demands, then flushes and looks away.

Kojiro’s grin grows. _I knew someone was watching us,_ he thought, relishing collecting his reward from Kaoru. Answering Izuku’s question, he says, “Yeah, yeah, it is more fun that way.”

“Thank you again, Uncle Kojiro,” Izuku says.

“Anytime, kid.” He slaps Izuku heartily on the back, but Izuku doesn’t even move. It’s a relief, and a little bittersweet, seeing Izuku get so big and strong. He’s going to be a great hero, like he always wanted. It’s great and terrible both. “You take care of that bratty boy of yours too. Keep in touch?”

“Definitely,” Izuku promises, following Bakugo to the taxi where he’s waiting impatiently.

Kojiro watches the taxi until it disappears, then goes back up into the apartment. He’s not surprised that Kaoru let himself in the back, not wanting to make a scene. He likes to pretend he’s so logical and emotionless. Kojiro has always known better; Kaoru’s heart is more tender than most.

“They’re gone?” Kaoru asks, turning on the stool to face him.

Closing the distance until he’s got Kaoru caged between him and the counter, Kojiro grins. “They’re gone.”

Something in his face must give the game away because Kaoru sighs. “He did see us, didn’t he?”

“Mmhmm,” Kojiro confirms.

Kaoru rolls his eyes, but his hands slip under Kojiro’s shirt, helping him take it off. “So you want your reward, I suppose,” he says like it's an imposition instead of an excuse.

Reaching into the folds of the kimono and opening it indecently wide, Kojiro steps between Kaoru’s spread thighs. Giving lie to his reticence, Kaoru wraps his legs around Kojiro’s waist. “You suppose right,” he says, taking off Kaoru’s glasses and setting them aside. That done, he lifts Kaoru up as though his weight is insignificant. Kaoru yelps and grabs his shoulders to hold on to, but he can feel Kaoru getting hard against his stomach.

“You barbaric gorilla,” Kaoru complains as Kojiro walks to his room.

He doesn’t say anything until he’s crawling up on the bed and Kaoru releases him to drop the couple inches onto the bed. “I'm your barbaric gorilla,” he says, tugging the shoulders of the kimono wide until Kaoru’s chest and his still pierced nipples are revealed. He bends down and takes a ring into his mouth, pulling.

Kaoru gasps, but tangles a hand in Kojiro’s hair as he grips a shoulder.

“What can I say?” he retorts. “I have shitty taste.”

Kojiro cups his already hard dick. “Lucky for us both, I’ve got the best taste,” he says, leaning up to claim Kaoru’s mouth. He feels Kaoru smile against his mouth, and a leg slides up to hitch over Kojiro’s hip. 

Kaoru nips at Kojiro’s lips when the kiss breaks. “Prove me wrong,” he says like a challenge, like a promise.

Grinning down at him, Kojiro rolls his hips forward, grinding them together until Kaoru throws his head back and moans.

“I’m going to,” Kojiro assures. “I’m going to make you forget every name but mine.”

The beautiful and terrible ones are always the most fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed because I certainly enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Yet another title inspired by Nikita Gill (not sorry). 
> 
> Her poem [Both Beautiful & Terrible](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bk0MoGOH3wc/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) seemed to hit me right in the right place to describe both Cherry and Katsuki, and to describe the antagonistic side of their relationships.


End file.
